


Never Let Me Go

by psuedo118



Category: Holby City
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bisexual Female Character, Canon Bisexual Character, Canon Compliant, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Canon Pairing, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Dancing, F/F, Fanart, Femslash, Fluff, Formalwear, Jealousy, Lesbian Character, Little Black Dress, Love, Romance, Smut, Tuxedos, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, berena - Freeform, painting and fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 00:37:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8307067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psuedo118/pseuds/psuedo118
Summary: It’s the annual Holby City end of year Christmas function. Serena’s in a black dress, Bernie’s in a tux. But, after Bernie’s secondment they’re barely even colleagues, a canyon of unsaid thoughts and feelings widening between them. Some things are inevitable, like Bernie dragging her mouth along Serena’s collarbone as she shudder’s beneath her, hissing in approval.Posted with a watercolour/fanart accompaniment!





	

**Author's Note:**

> This took a lot longer than anticipated. This started as a small smut piece inspired by a conversation held on twitter, that turned into a much longer, much more angsty exploration of some unfulfilled tension and desires that have been brewing below the surface between Serena and Bernie. It’s angsty. It’s fluffy. It’s hot. It’s my early Christmas Berena gift to you.
> 
> Note: This is unbeta'd, apologies for any mistakes that may have fallen through the cracks!
> 
> The title is taken from Florence + The Machine’s ‘Never Let Me Go’

 

And the arms of the ocean, so cold and so sweet

And all this devotion, well, I never knew at all

And the questions I have for a sinner released

In the arms of the ocean deliver me

 

And it’s over and I’m going under

But I’m not giving up

I’m just giving in

 

Florence + The Machine - ‘Never Let Me Go’

 

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Ordinarily, Serena Campbell loved Christmas time. Not all of her Christmas’s had been joyful occasions, no, over the years some had been much harder to bare than others. But Serena had always seemed to hang on, even infinitesimally to her own special brand of Christmas cheer. But this year? This year had been particularly rough… and Serena’s Christmas cheer was feeling decidedly less… cheerful than usual. So with the hospital Christmas party upon her once more, Serena grumbled rather morosely over the fact that nothing ever seemed to change. Serena felt like it was the same story every year: same venue, same cheap wine, same sorry lot. Except as an added bonus, this year she wasn’t feeling particularly festive. As a matter of fact, she was feeling downright maudlin. She’d nearly decided to stay home and make her excuses, but Raf and Fletch had practically goaded her into coming earlier in the day. Ever since Bernie had returned from the Ukraine, Raf and Fletch had been very attentive and in-tune with her moods. She wondered if it was because they’d seen first-hand, the palpable tension between the two women. After all they’d both had front row seats to her devastation following Bernie’s departure. And while Raf had been very supportive, there was no doubt in Serena’s mind that he had shared his knowledge of the situation with Fletch. And she’d seen how both Raf and Fletch had treated Bernie since her return - and as much as she appreciated the support she hated seeing Bernie shunned. Serena had been quick to take them both in hand. Contrary to her recent vulnerability, she could fight her own battles - she certainly didn’t anymore inept knight in shining armour types in her life. Of course, AAU still ran like a well-oiled machine, but there was an underlying icy-ness on the ward that had nothing to do with the weather. Serena tired to feel cheered by the fact that Raf and Fletch were at least trying to nudge her out of her misery.

 

She kept mulling around the same word over and over again in her mind as she got ready for the evening: “Colleagues”

It beat a tempo in her head “…colleagues… col lea gues… coll e a g u e s… colleagues…”

It’s what Bernie and her had agreed be: colleagues, professionals, and this time, that’s how they would remain. Not even a mention of undeniable sexual tension or worse: unresolved feelings. Except at this point they were barely even colleagues - they hadn’t operated together in weeks, most of the time they weren’t even on the same shift. And when their shifts overlapped and they were forced to work together, the stony silences that they shared in the office seemed to buzz and crackle with unseen tension. Hurt looks, and stolen glances, overly cheerful greetings, mixed with angry grunts and abused paperwork. There was no easy way to navigate the mine-field that their work environment had become. It was a disaster waiting to happen, and it wouldn’t take much to set the whole thing off, one wrong step and someone was more than likely to loose a limb or their life.

 

The weeks of on-going torture was starting to take its toll on Serena. She didn’t know how much longer she could go on like this. So with Raf’s urgings to attend what Serena thought could be her final Christmas party at Holby, she had decided to go all out — low cut, sex on a stick black silk dress, blood red high-heels and lipstick to match. She’d even worn her stockings and garters, she smiled smugly to herself. A hidden reminder of her own damn sexual prowess would help her through the evening… And she felt damn sexy. NO, she had not worn it for a certain blonde bisexual macho army medic, she’d worn it for herself, and perhaps to see said blonde’s reaction. But more for herself — she deserved a night out, to feel like the bloody attractive woman that she knew she was, and what Bernie happened to see, or not see, was her damn loss. Not everyone got their kicks from up and running at the first sign of danger or simple bloody happiness.

 

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Bernie had arrived early to the venue. She’d tried to keep her distance from Serena after her secondment to the Ukraine. She wondered for what seemed like the hundredth time when she’d feel comfortable in her sexuality, or if she ever would for that matter. If it was her desire for women that made her hurt those closest to her, or if it was just her. Perhaps she was cursed, doomed to wreck anyone that came close to her. The thought made her sigh into her already half finished glass of wine. She nodded a greeting at Guy Self as he moved past her. From her position at the bar she had a clear view of the room. She knew that the invitation had said formal attire, so she had decided to get herself a tux for the evening. She’d abandoned the bowtie at the last minute and decided to have the collar open. It was too damn cold outside for a dress anyway, and she’d wanted to be comfortable. She doubted that she would stay long, she told Jason that she would attend, and she’d not miss the chance to see Cameron in formal dress, or the rest of AAU for that matter. And with that thought, she wondered for what must be the thousandth time if Serena would attend the party. Not that she could have asked her. She looked at the smear of red lipstick on her glass and tried not to think of Serena’s lips against her own. Tried not to think of Serena clinking her glass against her own, tried not to think of Serena sipping her wine. Tried not to think of Serena’s dark brown eyes looking at her; over her face mask in theatre; smiling at her over her wine glass in Albie’s. Wincing, Bernie pushed the half-finished glass away from her as if it had personally wounded her.

 

With another muttered round of “Stupid coward” for good measure, Bernie shook her head loose shaggy curls ruffling around her, sighing miserably. She’d done this to them, it was her own damn fault, not Serena’s. She’d tried to convince herself that it was for Serena’s own benefit. That she was hazardous waste material when it came to relationships. And she would not hurt Serena any further. It wasn’t fair, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t want her. God, did she want her. Eyeing the glass in front of her, Bernie swiftly downed the last of her wine before the barman could remove it and decided to head outside for a cigarette, she needed one to calm her nerves.

 

She’d held it together around Serena so far, but tonight would be difficult if she attended regardless. She smiled tentatively at Raf and Fletch as she made her way to the entrance. She couldn’t hold it against them for being protective of Serena, in fact it endeared them even more to her, knowing that their fierce loyalty would always be there for Serena to rely on. Bernie knew that they were all seated according to their wards, so if Serena did attend they would be at the same table. She was so busy concentrating on trying to retrieve her lighter from wherever she had stashed it in her tux jacket that she wasn’t concentrating when she walked straight into… Serena. Unseeingly, they both reached out to steady each other and apologise at the same time. It was the most they had said to each other in almost weeks, and they both seemed to realise it at the same time. Wide-eyed, it was a moment before either of them realised that they were almost embracing. Bernie cleared her throat awkwardly, a severe blush starting to flush her normally pale skin, as Serena moved backwards.

“Serena… I wasn’t sure that you were going to… attend-”

“Yes, it was a last minute decision really. If you’ll excuse me.”

The dismissal was clear but Bernie lingered as Serena removed her fluffy oversized coat in a flourish before her, before handing it to a nearby usher. Bernie could hear her own blood banging overly loudly in her own head all of a sudden, she couldn’t draw breath, where on earth had the air gone? She vaguely wondered and simultaneously dismissed the thought that she was having a heart attack. Her eyes tracked down the dark black gown that seemed to roll and flow over Serena’s figure in all the right places. God, had Serena ever shown so much cleavage? What was that lipstick, the blood of her fallen enemies? Bernie felt herself flush, she could barely resist the urge to pull on her already loose collar. Her and the usher seemed to both be equally as stunned as she watched Serena send the young man a dazzling smile. Behind Serena’s back Bernie sent him a dark withering look that had him start and hurrying away instead. Bernie watched as Serena surveyed the room. She was jealous, the realisation hit Bernie like a wooden ram to the chest. It took her a minute to gather herself, eyes never leaving Serena’s silk-clad figure. Hastily Bernie shoved her lighter back in her pocket as she sidled up to Serena. Serena looked at her disdainfully with one raised eyebrow, before folding her arms and turning away from her. Bernie tried not to stare at Serena’s breasts where they seemed to strain heavenwards, aided by Serena’s folded arms beneath them. She tried to swallow, but Bernie’s mouth felt dry and thick. She was absorbed with the shadows below Serena’s collar bones… What on earth was wrong with her? She felt faint! She was supposed to be avoiding Serena, not ogling her like some randy teenager. Without any real conscious thought, she cleared her throat, hoping to get Serena’s attention, but the woman was already moving away from her and across the hall. Bernie took a moment to watch Serena’s dress sway with the seductive motion of her arse. She licked her lips as she set off after the woman, trying to look away from the dark-haired woman’s form as she moved ahead of her — and failing miserably.

 

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Raf and Fletch watched as Serena glided across the floor to their table, looking regal and only half-smirking as she sat down at the table. She greeted them both with a cheeky, “Boys,” as she placed her clutch down on the table. Bemused they watched as Bernie seemed to zoom across the room behind Serena, swiping two glasses of red from a nearby waiter, and placing one down in front of Serena with a flourish as she sat down. Except, Serena didn’t look too pleased with Bernie’s actions, in fact she looked downright infuriated and annoyed. She shifted in her chair, angling her shoulder away from Bernie to chat to Lou beside her. Raf and Fletch watched in amusement as Bernie’s mouth parted as her eyes roamed over Serena’s nape and exposed shoulder, before taking a large gulp of the wine in front of her.

“When d’you think the two of ‘em are goin’ to sort themselves out?” Fletch asked, nodding his head infinitesimally in the direction of the two co-lead’s pointedly ignoring each other at the other side of the table.

Raf sighed audibly, eyeing the women as well, “Hopefully tonight by the looks of them: Bernie looks like she can barely control herself, and Serena looks bloody dangerous. I’d say it’ll be tonight or never, really.”

“Do you reckon we should put a wager on it?”

“No, not on this, I won’t gamble on Serena and Bernie’s happiness. It doesn’t feel right. And, I want them to end up together.”

“Aw Raf! You old romantic you!”

Raf chuckled into his drink, shaking his head at Fletch cajoling nudge and accompanying laughter, sending up a silent prayer, as he swallowed his drink, to whatever god was listening, in the hopes that the evening would be kind to both Serena and Bernie.

 

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Serena knew how hot the venue could be, so she had made sure that the gown was made of whisper thin silk, that felt cool against her skin for now. She had hoped to position herself as far away from Bernie as humanly possible, but that idea had been quashed by the woman herself. Weeks of avoidance and tense undercurrents and suddenly Bernie was sticking to her like glue. Serena tried not to feel too smug, trying instead to channel her built up feelings into a distilled simmering rage. ‘What right did she have!?’ Serena thought vehemently to herself, ‘Wearing a tux like that, as debonair as you please.’ The contrast of the white undershirt against the cut of the black tailored jacket making Serena itch to slip her hands underneath, and trace the womanly form she knew was hiding underneath. She’d been startled when she realised that the figure she had collided with had been Bernie. And now she’d have to spend all bloody evening next to her, calm as you bloody like. She laughed heartily at something Lou said, not really paying attention, using the periphery of her vision to keep an eye on the seeming put out woman next to her. ‘Served her bloody right!’ Serena thought to herself, especially after weeks of avoidance and awkwardness. But she allowed herself to revel the smallest amount in the knowledge that she had shaken the formidable reserve that Bernie enjoyed hiding behind so damn much.

 

Bernie tried not to feel too put out about the passive-aggressive rejection coming at her loud and clear from Serena. She deserved it. She smiled a sad little smile at Cameron as he waved at her from the bar where he stood with Morven and Jasmin. Everyone took their seats to begin the evenings proceedings. Serena was forced to straighten in her chair as they listened to the speeches from Hanssen and some droning Board member. Not that either of them paid any attention to the speeches. Bernie leaned back in her seat, able to look freely at Serena from this new vantage point, allowing herself the opportunity to unabashedly drink the other woman in. Bernie felt edgy, like she needed a cigarette. The more she looked, the more she wanted, and the more she took in, the more she remembered that she couldn’t touch. Soon the speeches were over, and the dinner for the evening arrived swiftly, with only one awkward moment when Jason audibly whispered to Cameron to ask if Aunty Serena and Bernie had come to the Christmas party as a couple. Both of them seemed to become robotic at the words, trying awkwardly not to acknowledge what they had overheard. Neither Serena or Bernie heard Cameron’s quiet response, but Jason seemed to nod knowingly before he stage-whispered, “But they dressed to match!” Serena flushed and took a large sip of wine, and Bernie started looking around frantically for a waiter, as Cameron once again leaned in to provide Jason with another murmured response. Jason seemed to accept this additional piece of information, before grinning broadly at both Bernie and Serena and saying proudly, “Aunty Serena, Bernie, you both look lovely tonight.” Both Serena and Bernie murmured their thanks to Jason, their eyes meeting and sharing what must be the first smile in weeks. It felt like a fresh wound when the initial joy wore off, and they both realised what they were doing. When had a simply smile become a criminal act? They both returned to their meals, Bernie guilty and longing, pushing her food around her plate. While Serena angry and frustrated all over again, stabbed her carrots with renewed vigor. After dinner ended their table seemed to empty on to the dance floor. Only Raf, Fletch, Serena and Bernie remained. Even Jason was off dancing, apologetically and repeatedly standing on some poor girl’s feet.

“Ms. Wolfe, may I have this dance?”

The four seated at the table all seemed to simultaneously pause at the question, Guy took a moment to survey the suddenly silent table before returning his attention to Bernie, awaiting her response with an outstretched hand. Bernie seemed just as taken aback as everyone else, before she finally stuttered out a polite, “Of…of course.” Her gaze met Serena’s briefly, before she left the table without a second glance. Serena barely noticed as Raf maneuvered himself into the vacant seat beside her, her eyes linked to the blonde swaying on the dance floor. A frown marring her expression as she watched.

“It’s just a dance, Serena.”

Serena seemed not to hear Raf, her eyes tracking the couple, Bernie’s arms on Guy’s shoulders and Guy’s hands on Bernie’s waist.

“I’m sure Guy’s just being polite by dancing with her.”

“Of course,” Serena seemed to growl, “Guy Self. Polite? It must be a Christmas Miracle.”

“Serena…”

“I know, you’re right I’m just-”

“-jealous.”

“Raf.” his name was a deadly scrape from her lips, anyone else would have taken the tone alone as a warning, but Raf knew that Serena’s bark could be worse than her bite. Especially when it came to her feelings for a particular blonde Trauma surgeon. He didn’t even hesitate before he said, “You are.”

Exasperated Serena raised her arms and gestured in the general direction of the dance-floor, as she said, “I’m merely looking in the general direction of the dance-floor, wondering where Jason could have gotten to, that’s all.”

“And that’s why you look like you’re trying to figure out the best way to murder Mr. Self?”

“All right!” Serena turned to him abruptly folding her arms challengingly, “I’m jealous! So bloody what, I’m not a robot. Some of us can’t cavort off to the Ukraine and compress our feelings into tiny non-existent molecules and pretend they don’t exist!”

Raf looked at her in sympathy, there wasn’t much he could say to that really. Thankfully he was saved from responding, when a tall slender tuxedo-clad figure appeared along side them. Raf tried not to grin too broadly as the figure bravely asked, “Ms. Campbell, would you do me the honor of accompanying me on the dance floor?”

Serena looked up into familiar smiling brown eyes, and felt a pang of something she tried so hard to beat down inside of herself. Except these familiar eyes, were slightly different from Bernie’s. Where Bernie’s had been devoid of any kind of happiness for weeks now, Cameron’s eyes were positively beaming, they were so filled with joy and mirth. And that resounding feeling in her chest gave another herculean wave of force against her heart as she realised that she missed Bernie, really truly and deeply missed her. She missed laughing, flirting, being with Bernie, and longed to see smiling at her again. With a small smile, Serena had already placed her hand into his outstretched hand before she had even nodded her ascent. She let Cameron lead her to the dance floor. They smiled at each other as Cameron turned to her, suddenly shy, holding his hands up in awkward invitation.

“For heavens sake!” in exasperation Serena moved closer to him as she placed his hands on her hips with a rueful smirk as he snorted out a laugh so similar to his mother’s, that Serena smiled toothily in response. They turned and swayed with the music without talking for quite sometime before Serena said, “You’re a very good dancer, you haven’t stood on my feet once.”

“No need to sound so surprised.” Mischievously he leaned in to whisper, “Years of secret dance lessons, they were supposed to make me less clumsy.” His accompanying wink, made her heart clutch again painfully in her chest again — he reminded her so much of Bernie, it could be unbearable. But during Bernie’s secondment the pair had grown quite close, Serena seeking a connection to Bernie, however faint. He was so similar to his mother in so many ways — his awkwardness; his charm; his sense of humour; his kindness with Jason. Serena was very fond of him, and unlike his mother, he had done nothing to deserve her ire.

“You look lovely tonight, Serena.”

“You didn’t have to do this you know.”

“Dance with a beautiful woman? You’re right, it was more ‘want’ than ‘need’ if I’m being honest.”

“I meant… trying to distract me by dancing with me, Cameron. And we both know it.”

“I really did want to dance with you!”

“You are sweet.”

“I know.” He said with the cheeky wink that had her laughing merrily.

Cameron, to his credit, never tried to discuss his mother with her. He just offered silent support and understanding. Serena wasn’t sure how much he knew or didn’t know for that matter, but she was grateful that he was around. And she was pleased that he hadn’t inserted himself into this mess between herself and Bernie. Aside from tonight, which secretly had her quite pleased. She wanted desperately to spy Bernie from where she danced in Cameron’s arms, but focused rather intently on the young man instead. He had been kind enough to ask her to dance, and she would not disservice him so by using him as a prop. Little did Serena know that Bernie in Guy’s arms across the dance floor had been enraptured with Serena and Cameron since they had started dancing. Seeing her two favourite people in the world so happy together, laughing and at ease made her heart ache. Her son had, somehow, by no fault of her own in her opinion turned out all right, and Serena was so fond of him. She was glad that Cameron had found a home at Holby for himself. She couldn’t contain her wry chuckle as Cameron twirled Serena rather impressively, both of them laughing at his antics, not a care in the world. Guy turned them to dance in place at an angle where he could see what Bernie was laughing at, raising an eyebrow of disapproval in Serena and Cameron’s direction. “Ah, worried that Serena will get her claws into your son? Don’t worry, I’m sure she’s past her prime.”

Bernie shot him a dirty look, halting their swaying motion almost immediately. She forced herself to thank Guy for the dance before she marched across the dance floor away from him. Before she could stop herself, she found herself along side a familiar pair.

 

“Mind if I I cut in?” the question was quiet and gravelly, but Bernie stood awkwardly beside them, shooting a small smile at her son before returning her full attention back to Serena to await her response. Cameron’s grin was ecstatic as he happily moved away from Serena to allow his mother to take his place, stepping further away and catching Morven’s nearby arm before Serena could misconstrue the offer and try and force him to dance with his mother instead. Like naughty school children, Cameron and Morven flounced off before they could be roped into the awkwardness that was sure to ensue between the couple now frozen on the dance floor.

 

Awkwardly they moved into each other’s arms, the ease that Serena had been enjoying moments before had fled. She kept both of her hands on Bernie’s shoulders as they turned in time with the music, their eyes rising and falling to meet and glance away, a different kind of dance entirely. Eventually Serena settled on staring at Berne’s earlobe, feigning disinterest. Bernie noticed the fierce concentration and took the time to study Serena up close. It was hard to be so close to those lips again, as she licked her own — the memory fresh in her mind once more. She wanted so desperately to move her hands from where they remained steady on Serena’s hips, the cool smooth liquid like material not leaving much to the imagination beneath her touch. She wanted to draw Serena towards her, and press the length of her body against her. She wanted to sink her fingers into Serena’s soft hair and make her look dazed and soft with desire, but instead she stared into the almost unfeeling stoic mask and wondered why she had asked Serena to dance at all. Serena felt tense in her arms, and Bernie longed for the ease of their prior embraces. Longed for something she knew she probably didn’t deserve, but couldn’t seem to stop wanting.

 

“This will just re-ignite the hospital rumour mill all over again, thank you very much.” Serena murmured almost furiously under her breath, lips barely moving.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s just a dance Serena.”

“I know that.” Serena finally met Bernie’s gaze, both eyebrows raised challengingly.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Bernie asked, a frown creasing her brow as she tried to navigate the tide of anger being blasted against her.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

They returned to a stony silence as they moved around the dance floor.

“Why did you cut in? Guy Self stand on your toes?”

“I never wanted to dance with Guy Self.”

“But you did.”

“But I didn’t want to.”

“…”

“Serena.”

“…”

“Serena, I wanted to dance with you.”

The words filled Serena with hope, and looking into Bernie’s sad soulful eyes she was tempted, oh god, was she tempted… to just lean in… to eviscerate the thought of being “colleagues” from Bernie’s mind forever. But this was starting to feel like a familiar pattern. And she wasn’t sure her heart could take it. This… whatever this was between them: It hurt. Bernie had hurt her. So she just decided to hold her silence. And enjoy the dance.

Bernie seemed to take her silence as the ultimate rejection, one that she had feared all along. Another beat or two of silence followed as Bernie swayed them around the dance floor, warring with herself as finally she said, “I’ll leave, after this song ends.”

“What?”

“I’ll leave. You’re uncomfortable, and I’m sorry. I had no right, to ask you to dance… to treat you as if you were my property. Especially after everything that’s happened between us this past year.”

Serena seemed to be taken aback.

“Leave the party or leave the hospital?” The question caught in Serena’s throat, but she had to ask it, had to know. She and Bernie weren’t school girls. She had made her affections clear and Bernie had rejected her. Worse, Bernie had abandoned her. She wouldn’t tie herself up in knots any longer. She would be clear, calm and professional even if it was tearing her apart inside. And they both knew that they couldn’t carry on like this. Something would have to break.

“I meant leave the party, but,” Bernie’s colour seemed to grey at the words, unable to look Serena in the eye, “If that’s what you want, I can talk to Hanssen about a transfer or an indefinite secondment.”

Serena seemed to struggle,

“What do you want Bernie?”

“If I’m honest, right now a cigarette.”

They response seemed to inflame Serena as she said, “Always so bloody flip…” positively fuming she wretched herself free from Bernie’s arms.

“Serena, wait… damn.”

Serena moved swiftly off of the dance-floor, past the tables and out onto the balcony of the venue. Bernie shot a withering glance at anyone who dared to murmur at Serena’s back as she moved to follow her, sending Guy Self an extra dirty look for good measure.

Outside, Bernie found Serena off to one side at the edge of the balcony in the shadows.

“For goodness sake, can’t you just leave me alone.”

Serena closed her eyes as if to physically block out Bernie’s presence, hand clutching at the back of her neck, as if to alleviate the strain their interaction had placed on her. Bernie leaned against the balcony next to Serena, her back to the constellation of lights from the city in the distance.

“I did tell you I wanted a cigarette, so technically you’re in my spot.”

“For God’s sake!”

With a hand around her wrist Bernie stopped Serena from leaving. “Wait, please Serena, that was supposed to be a joke… a poor one, but a joke. Please, can’t we just talk?”

Bernie’s thumb was stroking the inside of her wrist, sending tingles up her arm. Serena took a moment to regard the imploring woman, before she said, “All right then, I’ll ask you again: What do you want Bernie?”

“It’s not that simple, Serena.”

“Of course it is! Of course it bloody is!” Serena moved into Bernie’s space, asking rather vehemently: “Aren’t you tired of this? This… pretending? Pretending that you aren’t interested? Pretending that you don’t want me? Because I am! I know you want me! And I want you too! Bernie… please.”

Bernie seemed to struggle with herself. How easy would it be, for her to reach out and kiss the living daylights out of the woman in front of her. This bloody brilliant incredible woman in her arms right now, this woman who just lay herself and her feelings completely bare. She could just say the words, just say that she wanted Serena, but what good would it do? Serena, this gorgeous fierce Valkyrie of a woman was looking at her with such longing, that it broke her heart. And god, she wanted her too. She just wished that she could be brave enough.

“Serena…” Bernie tried to steel herself, to say the words that Serena needed to hear, needed to understand. “… Serena, the problem is… you scared the life out of me too, but for very different reasons.”

She took off her tux jacket to put over Serena’s exposed arms. It was cold outside, and she didn’t want Serena to catch cold as she continued, “I doubt that there’s a shameful bone in your body, you embrace everything openly and honestly. It’s what I love about you, your unapologetic passion. But I’ve lived a lie for so many years, and sometimes it feels like the guilt could consume me. That I don’t deserve to be happy, that there’s no way that I could possibly make you happy with this dark cloud hanging over me. And you deserve, every happiness… you deserve to be worshipped every single day. You deserve better than me.”

Serena eye’s brimming, merely shook her head, unable to believe what she was hearing as Bernie continued. “Everyone I get involved with gets hurt, and I couldn’t stand the idea of hurting you.”

Serena clutched at Bernie’s jacket, warm against her skin, surrounding her with that distinct smell that she associated with Bernie. She willed her voice not to crack as she said, “But don’t you see? You have hurt me Bernie. You’re hurting me right now. This push and pull. I can’t do it any more. I want to be with you – in every way. And for some reason you can’t handle that. You don’t know the future; you can’t know that either one of us will get hurt. But we can’t carry on like this. We can’t be colleagues or friends with this between us. It’s too much. It’s too painful. I can’t - I won’t - do it anymore.”

“Serena-”

“Bernie, I asked you if you were leaving Holby because I’ve decided to tender my resignation in the New Year. I’ve made up my mind.”

“What?”

“I’m leaving, Bernie.”

“Serena no-”

“What Bernie? You don’t want me to go? I won’t do you the disservice of telling you that you only know what you don’t want to happen - not what you really want.”

Bernie seemed stunned at Serena’s words. The same words she had said to Serena before leaving for the Ukraine. The same words that Alex had thrown at her. But the situations were so different...

“You don’t understand.”

Serena laughed bitterly. She didn’t know that her heart could continue to be broken like this, ground into smaller and smaller pieces. ‘Soon there would only be dust left.’ The thought had her shaking her head, as she said, “I’m done asking you to explain it to me, Bernie.” With a final look at Bernie, she withdrew, making to move inside once more, deciding to take the last dust particles of her broken heart with her.

Bernie felt the loss like a physical blow, she could hear the dismissal in Serena’s words, her closed off body language, and she shivered from a different kind of cold as she blurted out, voice cracking in desperation, trying to stop Serena with her words: “It’s you.”

“What?”

Frustrated she moved to where Serena stood in the middle of the balcony, the merry din from the interior travelling outwards to where they stood. Bernie dared not touch Serena as she said. “It’s you Serena! It’s always been you! My first proper day at Holby… running into you changed my whole day - my whole life! I was on the brink of quitting and one conversation with you had me floating on air. Turned my whole bloody day around.”

“Rubbish.”

“You don’t see. You don’t understand my friendship with you, it changed everything. I thought my affair had messed up our friendship before, with your hobby of life-long grudges against adulterer’s - and that nearly killed me. But you forgave me, like… like it was nothing. Then… working with you on AAU, you were there for me with the divorce, with Cameron. And I messed it up! If I hadn’t kissed you…” Bernie swallowed, after everything that had happened, she still couldn’t regret that first kiss or the subsequent one in the office before she fled to the Ukraine. So instead she said, “I care, so deeply about you. So when I say I want you to be happy I mean it, with every fiber of my being. You love Holby and the AAU. I’ll leave, you stay.”

“No.”

“No?”

“You say you want me to be happy.”

“Yes!”

“Well, then, I need you.”

Bernie cocked her head inquisitively to the side, “To do what?”

“No,” Serena says, shaking her head smiling, one hand reaching up to tuck several wayward curls behind Bernie’s ear. “I. Need. You.”

“Serena-”

“Enough Bernie. Enough of this, I’m tired of fighting, and being angry, and living with this agony of wanting what I can’t have.” And with that declaration Serena simply wrapped a hand around Bernie’s neck and pulled the stubborn woman’s mouth to her own. The kiss was desperate and messy, and utterly perfect. To both women it felt like a storm of sorts had finally broken - it was a sweet relief to be in each other’s arms again.

 

Serena was flushed and breathless as they parted and she gulped out a smug, “You see… Simple.”

Serena’s name fell like a sigh from Bernie’s lips. She knew that she couldn’t deny her feelings anymore.

Serena turned stern as she said, “Berenice Wolfe.” making sure to look Bernie unflinchingly in the eye as she said, “It’s time you trusted yourself - and me - a little more.”

“Serena, I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, then, let’s see: you’re not going to kiss me and then feed me some bollocks about undeniable sexual chemistry tomorrow are you?”

“I thought that was the best decision at the time!”

“I think it’s time you start letting me make some of the decisions, or at least giving me a choice in the matter, hmm?”

“Okay.”

“So, I’ll ask again: no toast to our ‘undeniable sexual chemistry’ scheduled for tomorrow?”

A wry laugh seemed to rip itself from Bernie’s throat cutting through the tension as she chortled out an embarrassed: “No.”

“No sudden secondments on the horizon?”

“Serena.” The way Bernie said her name was an apology in itself.

“I want you Bernie. I… love you... You have to trust me to know myself.”

“Alright.”

“All right? Well, don’t sound too enthusiastic!”

Bernie couldn’t look Serena in the eyes as she said, “I still think you could do better than me.”

“Well, I don’t. It seems like I have a penchant for wilful macho trauma surgeon’s who think they can leave a woman high and dry at every bloody turn!”

Bernie couldn’t help herself as smiled at the woman in her arms leaning in for another kiss. These past few weeks had been torturous. This kiss was just as sweet as the first, and Bernie wondered somewhere in the part of her brain that was still functioning if it would ever be different, if she would ever get her fill of this woman in her arms. Serena gasped as Bernie bit her lip before slipping her tongue into her mouth. She could feel Serena’s hands in her hair pulling her deeper into the kiss - oh god, it was… everything.

 

Serena nibbled on the earlobe as Bernie whispered into her ear shakily, “How… how much have you had to drink?” Serena moved back just far enough to look her in the eyes, both eyebrows raised, and smirking said, “Not nearly enough.”

“Well, then, shall we go inside and get another drink to warm up? Or… do you fancy a night cap… elsewhere?”

Serena took a moment to pretend to ponder her choice before she whispering dangerously into Bernie’s ear: “I’ll take that nightcap, Ms. Wolfe.”

Bernie’s responding snort made her brush her nose in embarrassment as she placed a quick kiss on Serena’s lips before taking her hand to lead her inside.

 

Guy, not seeing their linked hands, smugly sauntered up to them as they re-entered from the balcony. “Ah, I see you sorted each other out - Did Ms. Wolfe tell you off for making an inappropriate move on her son did she?”

“Ah, Guy Self, once again proudly bandying about the wrong end of the stick.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, like his usual arrogant self. Rising to the unspoken challenge Serena merely said, “This.” Before turning away from Guy and dragging Bernie into another heated kiss.

Guy took a few moments to recover from gawking at the couple in front of him. His awkward and embarrassed “Excuse me” went unnoticed as the pair continued to kiss passionately. When they finally broke apart Serena murmured a smug and rather unapologetic “Sorry.”

Bernie chuckled as she said, “Now who’s being possessive?”

Serena smirked up at the blonde as she said, “I just thought I’d give the rumour mill something to really grind their teeth on over the holiday.”

“And that had nothing to do with staking your claim?”

Serena tried very hard to act innocently as she asked very wryly, “Would it make you feel better if I said that there was mistletoe above us?”

Bernie narrowed her already smiling eyes and glanced upwards, only to be met with open air above them.

“You!” she said accusingly when her gazed dropped down to Serena’s mischievous expression. Serena chuckled as she said, “I never said there was! Just that it might make you feel better.” The wink that Serena sent her, had Bernie’s heart beat a wild flutter and she instinctively reached for Serena’s hand as she said, “Come on.” leading them both with determination across the dance floor to collect their things from their table. Thankfully their table appeared to be empty, and after gathering their things they made their way to collect their coats. On their way past the bar both Raf and Fletch grinned at them, raising their glasses in a mock toast. Cameron gave his mother an exuberant thumbs-up from across the hall where he stood with Morven. Clearly everyone had seen their earlier display, but Bernie felt buoyant with the knowledge that their friends and family supported them. And after she helped Serena into her fluffy coat she felt comfortable enough to kiss Serena again - simply because she wanted to, and because she could.

 

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The car ride home was filled with small smiles, and little glances. The air seemed to crackle with an unspoken electric tension between them. To go from the starving wasteland that their relationship had been in recent weeks to this… this small bubble of merry paradise. Well, it had them both giddy. And if any one could see them they would probably smile from secondhand happiness alone. Serena’s cheeks ached from happiness, and the palpable joy in the air. But when Bernie parked the car outside of her place Serena felt suddenly anxious. And the realisation of what was about to happen seemed to overwhelm her. She was suddenly glad that she had decided to go all out for the evening underneath her dress – dear god, imagine if she hadn’t. Once they were inside, mouth dry, Serena headed straight for a nearby kitchen cabinet. Already removing a pair of wine glasses, and without turning around to face Bernie, Serena called over her shoulder, “So… Would you like a glass of wine?” trying desperately to ignore the nervousness building in her chest.

 

Bernie watched as Serena opened a bottle of Shiraz, regardless of her answer. She seemed almost jittery, like a bird twittering about the small enclosure of the kitchen. It made Bernie want to gather her in her arms and kiss every nervous zing of energy right out of her. Instead she watched, and waited. Casually leaning against the kitchen island, making sure to keep a bit of distance between them for now, Bernie asked, “When will Jason be home?”

Serena knew that the question was a loaded one, but appreciated Bernie’s attempt at nonchalance and feigned disinterest none-the-less. “Well, actually he told me that he had made arrangements with Cameron for after the Christmas party.” Serena said with a wry nervous smile, as she concentrated on filling the glasses before her.

They both knew that that meant they had the place to themselves for the evening. Bernie hesitated before answering, caught up in studying Serena, she knew that she was nervous, she was so in tune with Serena, in and out of theatre. These last few weeks had been agony. So, she almost couldn’t help herself when she decided to throw a bit of caution to the wind and said, “You look gorgeous tonight you know.” Serena licked her lips as she took in Bernie’s smoldering look, feeling an extraordinary heat suffuse her all over, a heat that she knew had nothing to do with the recently poured wine on the counter. She swallowed, taking a deep breath before taking a healthy sip of her wine. ‘Bloody hell.’ She thought, as she murmured a breathless “thank you”, while sliding Bernie’s wine glass along the counter towards her.

 

Seeing Serena suddenly so out of sorts was endearing. She wanted her to be comfortable, but she also wanted her to know that she wanted her. She moved closer to Serena, placing her hands on Serena’s hips as she used her weight to press her body fully against Serena’s, pinning her against the kitchen counter behind her. She took Serena’s wine from her hand and put it down on the counter, making sure to return her hand to Serena’s hip to pull her even closer to her. When they kissed it was magnetic. They moaned against each other’s mouths, Serena wrapped her arms around Bernie’s neck, pulling her as close to her as she possibly could, eliminating what little space remained between them. Desire made them both desperate, there was an underlying fierceness, a hint of what they had almost lost colouring the growing wanting feeling between them. A feeling that both women wondered privately to themselves if they would ever be able to fill – if they would ever be able to get enough of one another.

 

Without breaking the kiss, Bernie gathered Serena’s dress upward, bunching and creasing it as she went. She fingers traced along the smooth silk clad thighs until they brushed along the lacy edge of Serena’s garter straps, Serena gasped into the kiss as Bernie snapped one of the offending straps against her skin. Snapping back from the kiss, to looking down almost drunkenly, Bernie, in a highly aroused gravel, managed to grasp out, “Garters and stockings Serena, really? Are you trying to kill me?”

Slipping her hands under Bernie’s jacket, and allowing the garment in question to fall to the floor, Serena merely said with a sultry rasp and tilt of her head, “No, Ms. Wolfe, you see, I need you very much a live.” With an arrogant lift to her chin Serena unceremoniously ripped Bernie’s shirt apart, sending buttons flying. “Oh hoho!” Bernie chuckled at the sound of buttons ricocheting around the kitchen floor, not at all displeased with Serena’s brazen act, “You’re going to to pay for that!” Not in the slightest bit concerned with her destroyed shirt, Bernie shrugged the last of the ruined material from her body. She tried not to feel too smug as she watched Serena’s half-lidded gaze drinking in the sight of her breasts. She was glad that she’d decided to wear her dusty pink lacey bra at the last moment, it was her favourite. And watching Serena’s absorption with her chest made her blush with pleasure. Bernie shivered as Serena ran her hands up and down her arms, squeezing at the muscles she found there before dragging Bernie towards her once more. The hunger in Serena’s gaze was mesmerizing, Bernie felt like she was some sort of treasure that Serena had just discovered. The desire in Serena’s gaze was exhilarating, no one had ever looked at her like that, not Marcus, not Alex, no one. She’d never been so drawn to someone so effortlessly before. Like a moth to a flame. And the funny thing was she knew that she could spend the night kissing Serena and be happy, just languishing in the touch of her lips against her own.

Bernie brought a finger up to trace the edge of Serena’s bra, visible from the edge of dress’s bodice. Bernie allowed herself to skimming over the mound of soft flesh, flushed with arousal, and heaving distractingly under her touch. She bit her lip, as she struggled to ask Serena if she was sure that she wanted to continue. If she was comfortable. She swallowed as the words seemed to catch in her throat. What if Serena wanted to stop? What if she thought that they were making a mistake? The thoughts seemed to swirl like a wurling dervish through her mind, upending any confidence or certainty that she had had before. It was only when Serena cupped her jaw and directed her gaze into her own again that she realized she’d stopped breathing. She took a shuddering mouthful of air as Serena simply said, “Please Bernie.” Her expression was so open, so honest. There wasn’t an ounce of demand or expectation. It was a simple request to continue, and Bernie felt relief flood through her.

 

Bernie kissed her soundly once more before pulling away. But when Serena leaned in to kiss her again, Bernie pulled back, giving Serena a small predatory smile before kissing along Serena’s jaw and downwards. The hammering of her carotid artery against her lips and tongue made Bernie feel heady with the power. “You… smell, so good.” Bernie muttered against Serena’s throat, kissing the reverberation of Serena’s answering moan against her lips. She waited to kiss and make love to every inch of this woman, to somehow show Serena that she loved her with absolutely everything that she had, with everything that she was. At the same time, she fought the urge to bite down on the thin skin stretched against Serena’s collar bone and mark her as her own.

She could feel Serena’s heaving breasts straining against her own and struggled to reign in her own moan. God, how she had lusted after her breasts. She hated paperwork, but could write essay’s about Serena’s nervous habit of playing with her necklace and the opportunity it gave her to admire her chest. Now that she thought about it, that was probably why she was so terrible at administrative paperwork, and who could really blame her? After denying herself for so long, she wanted to rip the gown off of Serena’s body and lay her bare, she wanted her so desperately. She wanted to feast on the inviting softness of her breasts, to lick and suck and nip. She wanted to feel Serena’s moans and shudders as she worshipped her, and she wanted her. Now. Slowly she dragged the zipper down from where her wandering fingers had found it. Following the article of clothing downward, practically kneeling before her, Bernie made Serena step out of the silk garment forcing her to spreading her legs.

 

With Serena in nothing but her undergarments Bernie couldn’t help but stare in adoration at her from her position on the floor. How on earth had she gotten this lucky? The deep burgundy red of Serena’s matching bra and panties complimented the black garters and stockings. Bernie’s mouth was dry as she tried desperately to swallow and clear her throat the same time. She felt like her head was swimming in a thick fog of desire, but her body felt electrified, as she ran her hands up along Serena’s calves that trembled and quivered as her hands moved higher and higher, sliding to the edge of the lacy stockings. Bernie fought the urge to try and remove the garter straps with her teeth, instead she slipped a thumb under the strap, and undid the catch, looking upwards at Serena’s intake of breath, making her chest heave heavily above her. When she was done with one leg, Bernie unclasped the other strap without taking her eyes from Serena’s. The air seemed to sizzle and crackle around them. Bernie moved upwards once more to pull Serena’s mouth to her own, with one hand tangled in Serena’s hair, she used her free hand to slip a single finger between Serena’s legs and could feel the damp warm material against her touch. She could feel Serena’s moan against her lips as she moved to unclasp her own bra and Serena’s, trying desperately not to break the kiss at the same time. A flame of urgency seemed to engulf them, as finally both their breasts were free and pressed against one another. It was a struggle to draw breath as Bernie pulled back from Serena, reaching out to cup both of Serena’s breasts in her hands as she said breathlessly, “I’ve always wanted to do this.” Not breaking eye contact with Serena as she squeezed and massaged the soft flesh in her hands. She brushed both nipples with the pads of her thumbs and watched with fascination as Serena seemed to shudder and melt under her touch. She couldn’t help her smile and surrender as Serena guided her head downwards, to suck a puckered nipple into her mouth. Bernie reveled in the squeaking noises of pleasure that seemed to emanate from Serena as she flicked her tongue over the tight bud in her mouth. Swirling her tongue around Serena’s engorged nipple, Bernie slipped her hand back into Serena’s soaking wet panties. She could feel Serena’s arousal drench her fingers as she pushed effortlessly inside of her, Serena’s cry of pleasure sending her into a frenzy of desire as she nibbled on the nipple in her mouth, curling her fingers upwards at the same time to reach that sweet spot of surrender. She could feel Serena’s flutter around her fingers’ with pleasure as her thumb started to rub against her clit at the same time. Chest heaving, Bernie pulled away from Serena’s breasts to kiss her again as she felt the woman in her arms shudder and gasp against her. Bernie had never seen her look so beautiful, marveling at the privilege to watch her come undone, to be the one to do it. She watched as Serena’s face tighten, as she began to thrust more intensely against her fingers. Moaning and crying out in exquisite agony. Bernie could feel Serena’s orgasm as it beat an answering tattoo against her finger’s. She felt Serena exhale a ragged breath as she came back to herself. When Bernie withdraw her fingers, Serena kissed her soundly on the mouth, making her feel drunk once more with desire.

 

Serena seemed to shy once more, whispering a shaky “Remember, I’ve never done this before…” with her arms resting around her neck. Wordlessly, and without breaking eye contact with Serena, she took Serena’s right hand and slipped two of her fingers into her mouth to wet them, before guiding their joined hands down into her pants, and panties below. She watched Serena’s face as her fingers made contact with her slit, feeling the silky smooth liquid against the pads of her fingers for the first time. Bernie could barely resist shuddering as Serena’s awestruck face shifted into a state of unabashed desire and control as Bernie pressed her hand against her, and Serena’s fingers slipped effortlessly inside of her, stroking her very aroused clit. Bernie let out a ragged breath as she said, “I want you Serena. There’s nothing you could do or couldn’t do that would make me want you less.” The earnestness in Bernie’s expression, faded as she bit her lip in response to Serena’s explorative fingers. Serena absorbed every detail of Bernie’s surrender, enjoying an unexpected sense of heady power that until this point she hadn’t understood that she had over Bernie... Serena could feel that Bernie was close, and she knew that a few deft strokes could send her over the edge. She stared in wonder as Bernie’s orgasm seemed build as she thrust and swirled her fingers, allowing Bernie to press her hand deeper inside of her. She couldn’t stop herself when she rasped out a commanding: “I want you to cum for me Bernie.” She could see that the words had shocked Bernie, but her exhilarated, “Oh God, Serena!” had her stroking Bernie’s clit with a fever, until she felt the answering quiver of Bernie’s orgasm flood against her hand and fingers. She marveled at the feeling of Bernie’s orgasm, awestruck with the knowledge that she had been able to do that to the unshakable Berenice Wolfe. After withdrawing her hand, she made sure to catch Bernie’s half-lidded gaze of arousal as she licked her fingers clean, before claiming Bernie’s mouth with her own once more.

 

When Bernie finally recovered, they stood for a few moments simply holding each other with their foreheads pressed together. Bernie opened her eyes to say, “I think… I think it’s time we move this to the bedroom.” Serena nodded, smiling into Bernie’s matching expression, she said rather happily, “I’ll bring the bottle of Shiraz.”

 

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Long after Bernie had had her post-coital fag, they lay peacefully together in Serena’s bed, a tangle of warmth in the duvet. Bernie lay with her head on Serena’s chest lavishly stroking Serena’s other nearby nipple, watching it pucker with her attention as Serena ran a hand through her head, untangling the mess of blonde curls. Eventually Serena moaned and made to move away, clearly becoming painfully aroused at Bernie’s on-going ministrations. Covering her nipple Serena said playfully incredulous, “Will you stop that please!?” Smiling, Bernie pulled Serena’s hand from her breast, placing a rather endearing kiss of apology on the overly aroused nodule, smirking as Serena groaned at the contact, fighting the urge to start something she knew that she might not have the energy to finish. Instead she wordlessly drew Serena in for another kiss. God, how she loved this woman. Bernie didn’t think that she had ever been so happy, so bone achingly content in her entire life. When the kiss ended she smiled down into Serena’s face, taking the opportunity to fondly fix some of Serena’s rumpled hair as she said, “Serena… I know I can’t promise you a smooth and easy,” linking their fingers together as she spoke, and taking the opportunity to place a kiss on each of Serena’s knuckles, “But I can promise that I won’t be going anywhere. If you really want me…? Really want… this?”

Serena, soft and content from the last few hours of activity seemed to understand the gravity of the situation - the gravity of what Bernie was trying to convey, and so she said with unflinching certainty, “I do, Bernie. You’re all I want.” That soft warmth seemed to suffuse them all over again, in the mirrored crinkle of their eyes as they gazed into each others eyes

“Then you should know…” Bernie seemed to hesitate, mulling the words over in her head, biting her lip, before saying “You said it earlier, and I want you to know… Serena, I love you too.” Eyes shining with tears, Serena murmured a heartfelt “Oh… Bernie.” and kissed her, hoping to channel every ounce of love and tenderness that she had for this woman in her arms, into the ferocity of her kiss. When they made love this time, it was much slower, every touch a promise, as they worshipped each other, well into the morning.

 

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In the morning, Serena woke up to find Bernie in the kitchen cooking unabashedly in her black and white spotted shirt, and Serena felt hungry for something else entirely.

Instead of a greeting Serena rasped out: “You look good in my shirt.” In response Bernie just smirked, raising a playful eyebrow, as she set a mug of coffee in front of Serena, allowing Serena to grab her by the collar of the shirt in question and drag her in to a passionate kiss, that had both of their heads swimming. It wasn’t long before Serena pulled back from the kiss, with a quizzical expression to ask, “Is something burning?”

“Damn!” Bernie turned around to lift the lid from a pan on the stove that Serena hadn’t noticed before. She sat down at the kitchen island, and said over Bernie’s shoulder, “And she cooks! Definitely a keeper!” allowing her eyes to drift along the fall of her shirt, taking in where it hung over Bernie’s delectable behind, reveling Bernie’s exposed legs and bare feet. She wondered if there was anything underneath that shirt, and stifled a groan into her coffee. Really, she’d only been awake less than a half an hour and she was already ready to jump the poor woman where she stood. But who knew her own shirt could look that bloody good.

 

Bernie, having dealt with a near emergency batch of slightly over-cooked French toast turned around with a flick of her hair over her shoulder to stare at Serena, intending to retaliate, but stopping short as she caught sight of Serena’s distracted face, as she seemed to stare intently at her backside. She gave a naughty wiggle of her bum, before she turned around, folding her arms, and leaning against the oven to grin cheekily over at Serena to ask: “Like what you see Miss Campbell?”

 

Serena cleared her throat, and shook her head, embarrassed to be caught, but playfully pretended to be disinterested under Bernie’s smug scrutiny. “So,” Serena said clearing her throat again with a little more force, “What’s for breakfast?” Bernie enjoyed disarming Serena in a way, she was a formidable woman, so to see her like this, made her feel all sorts of powerful and desirable at the same time. She took pity of Serena, shyly tucking some of her tousled hair behind her ear as she said, “I’m afraid, coffee and French toast are my only real specialties.”

“Sounds good to me, after last night… I’m famished.”

“Are you really?”

“Mmmhmm…”

They sat in the kitchen smiling at each other, and Serena wondered how on earth they would manage to get anything done on the ward like this. She was glad that they were both scheduled for the day off.

 

When Bernie finally served them, and had sat down across from her, she very smugly lifted her coffee mug and said, “So, Serena…” a playful edge to Bernie’s tone, “Are you quite sure that you don’t want to toast our ‘undeniable sexual chemistry’?” Serena’s raised eyebrow’s and deadpan smile, but couldn’t quite manage to stop the bubble of laughter that burst forth at Bernie’s words. Shaking her head, as they laughed together, Serena never wanted this to end, she wanted this, she wanted Bernie, for the rest of her life.

And so she raised her mug, and said, “How about we toast ‘To love’.”

And Bernie’s eyes never left her own as she repeated “To love”, that smoldering look back again, piercing Serena’s soul, warming the depths of her being, wrapping around the tendrils of her heart.

 

Fin

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my longest fic to date, and its become somewhat of a labor of love. I think that this stems from my love of the characters as individuals; the pairing; my fellow Berena shippers who I am honoured to call friends; and the fandom as a whole. In a way, this is my swansong to the Berena fandom before canon and life gets in the way. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!


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